


Let’s see how far this goes

by iamtheview



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Dark Leia Organa, Imperial Luke Skywalker, Leia please get some sleep, Luke Is A Good Brother, Obi-Wan Kenobi Lives, Sith Leia Organa, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:13:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26757820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamtheview/pseuds/iamtheview
Summary: Here are all my whumptober fics, mainly luke and vader with a side pinch of leia, han and obi wan :)You’ve probably seen hundreds of these whumptober fics but i wanted to give it a try!Updates are all over the place, but all prompts will be done eventually!
Relationships: Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Luke Skywalker
Comments: 53
Kudos: 127





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to my wonderful beta :)
> 
> Luke finds himself in an imperial prison but his escape attempt is cut short by the arrival of the man who murdered his father.

THe chains were tight around his wrists. Luke pulled on them helplessly, groaning in frustration as the cold metal clanged against the wall.

“Let me go!” he screamed helplessly; the words tore themselves from his hoarse throat and echoed off the door in front of him. 

No one responded. It wasn’t like he expected them to: they weren’t going to let him go because he ‘asked nicely’. He was _the_ rebel pilot, he was the one who’s bounty had been steadily increasing on for months, and he was the one who’d been foolish enough to let himself get caught.

His arms were starting to go dead. He bit his lip and leaned his head back in defeat, taking a small comfort in the way the contact with the wall behind him jarred his spine and caused echoes of pain to run across the back of his skull. How long was it that he’d been here? Was it hours? Days? Weeks, even?

They’d taken his father’s lightsaber when they’d found him. It was almost funny; the supposed ‘star pilot’ had been found trapped in a crashed ship not two kilometres from an Imperial outpost. Luke had woken up in a cold dark medbay, and barely even minutes later had found himself thrown into a cell, awaiting the arrival of the second in command of the entire empire.

He knew exactly why he’d been saved, before being thrown in here, and he knew nothing good would come of it. You couldn’t torture, interrogate and make an example of a corpse. That was exactly why he had to get out of here, and for a few minutes he even found himself regretting not agreeing to have a poison capsule sewn into the lining of his cheek, as was offered for all rebellion members.

Just one small bite, and it could all have been over before it had even begun.

No. Luke’s eyes snapped open to stare at the metallic grey ceiling. He refused to let it end like this: he hadn’t even said a proper goodbye to Han. He just had to breathe deeply, and think, he knew he could get out of this. What was the one advantage he knew he had?

Old Ben hadn’t been overly descriptive about how to use the force, just that it was some mythical energy that fed off the life of everything around it, or something along those lines. Luke took a couple of breaths to centre himself and imagined a giant nexus of pulsing golden webs spreading out in front of him.

(That was probably what the force looked like, right?)

He screwed his eyes shut and pins and needles shot through his fists as he gripped them tightly in concentration. He imagined that golden web untangling itself, and a small tendril coming over to him.

_ That’s it. _ he coaxed.  _ Come on. _

The golden thread felt like it was laughing as it snaked up to him and wound itself around his arm. Luke could almost feel the a phantom touch, like something actually was creeping up the side of his wrist, but he kept his eyes shut and refused to break his concentration. 

He imagined that small gold tendril snaking round and round the cuffs that bound his arms to the wall, and in a burst of desperate emotion, he imagined them squeezing tight.

Something shattered.

Luke gasped as he tipped forwards, the metallic remains of the broken cuffs clattering down onto the floor. He rubbed at his wrists in wonderment, and slowly but surely, a smile found its way onto his face. He’d done it. He could do this.

Flexing his shoulders, he turned to face the door, and closed his eyes, picturing that golden web again. To his surprise, it was tainted and dark, like something had corrupted it and it was rotting and twisting before his very eyes. The gold became black and twisted, and red dripped from the ends of its coils.

The door hissed open and Luke bolted from his dream-like state, cowering back against the wall behind him. The sound of a respirator filled his ears, shooting ice down his spine.

This was bad.

Darth Vader towered over him from the doorway, a menacing behemoth of black and hatred. A familiar lightsaber hung from his belt, and Luke felt an uncomfortable shot of rage course through him. How dare he wear his father’s weapon like a trophy? Was it not enough to have murdered him?

“You are Luke Skywalker,” Vader said.

Luke growled and picked himself up, standing tall. He clenched his fists, trying to hide how they shook.

“What do you care?” he spat.

It was a rhetorical question. He knew exactly what Vader cared: the man had betrayed and murdered his father, and now he was here to finish the job. It was just a bonus that he could rid the Empire of one of its greatest enemies at the same time.

“I have no intention to harm you, young one,” Vader said, almost as if he could hear what Luke was thinking. “It seems that your entire life, you have been lied to.”

Luke frowned, and opened his mouth, but the questions died on his tongue. VAder took a step towards and held out his hand. Luke stared at it blankly.

“Come,” said Vader. “We have much to discuss…”


	2. Day 2: Kidnapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prince Luke Vader has been captured by the rebellion, where he has a conversation with a strange old man who claims to have known his parents

This wasn’t the first time he’d been kidnapped.

Luke sat up in the stiff chair and stared straight ahead, refusing to flinch in the face of the bright fluorescent lights. The old man in front of him stared him down, an expression of fake serenity on his face.

This may not have been the first time he’d been kidnapped, but it this was the first time he’d been interrogated about it.

“Luke… Vader,” the man in front of him said, finally breaking the silence.

Luke’s eyes flicked to the him, before darting away again to trace the ceiling. He pursed his lips, his hands fidgeted under the table.

“I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of being introduced,”

_Some pleasure this is,_ Luke thought, but he kept it to himself. He could feel the small itch of his father’s presence in the back of his mind getting closer and closer, and he took comfort in the fact that it would be over soon.

As the heir to the empire itself, he’d had more than his fair share of encounters, be they pirates, bounty hunters or disillusioned revolutionaries, but every single time it was the same: he’d be locked up in a cell for an hour or two, some drunk mercenary would gloat at him, his father would arrive and he’d just close his eyes.

Lord Vader always made examples of those who dared to kidnap his son, and each example was more brutal than the last.

“You think your father will tear me apart for this, don’t you?” the old man sighed.

Luke frowned slightly and nodded.

“Believe me,” somehow, the man in front of him seemed to age even further as he spoke. “I am more than aware of your father’s capabilities,”

He smiled sadly, and Luke couldn’t help but study his face with a frown. He seemed familiar somehow, now that he actually looked, almost like a figure from a dream he’d once had.

“When I knew your father,” the old man continued. “He was loyal and righteous and brave. He was the strongest warrior I’d ever met, and he fought tirelessly for what was right,”

“What?” Luke blurted.

He immediately clapped a hand to his mouth and winced. His father’s words echoed through his mind. _Never tell them anything Luke, don’t give them anything to use against you. Just stay quiet and I will always find you- I promise._ He’d been eight then: a teary eyed child clinging to his father’s cloak, after feeling like he’d never see him again. That had been the first time.

“Hard to picture, isn’t it?” the old man chuckled quietly, not reacting to Luke’s small flare of panic. “Darth Vader, fighting for the light. But, he was a man of great integrity. Your mother too, she was a true force for good. She was a storm in the senate, and the entire galaxy owed her a tremendous debt,”

Luke leaned forwards surreptitiously, trying not to let his interest show. His father would never mention his mother, the most he’d ever gotten was a name.

“You knew my mother?” he whispered.

The old man’s eyes sparkled keenly as they locked onto Luke!s and, for a brief second, Luke feared he’d just made a terrible mistake. 

“I did,” the old man said. “I knew the both of them well.

“Is that why you kidnapped me?” Luke asked. “Because of who my parents were?”

“I imagine that’s rather the reason anyone would kidnap you,” the old man chortled.

“You know what I mean though,”

“I do,”

There was a brief silence in the room, and Luke could almost hear the force itself hum in anticipation for whatever would happen next. The itch in the back of his mind was only growing stronger, and he knew it would be only a matter of time before his father burst through the doors and indiscriminately slaughtered anyone who had laid a hand on him, and he couldn’t help but feel on the edge of his seat.

Normally, the most he felt for his kidnappers was numb remorse, but somehow he found he didn’t want this old man to die. He seemed to have grown attached, though he knew it was probably the link to his past, rather than anything about him specifically.

“In all truth, the reason I wanted to meet with you has less than honest motivations,” the man continued finally. 

This is a kidnapping. Luke thought. It’s hard to see how it could be honest.

“It is partially due to your parents, as you obviously guessed, but it is also because of you yourself. You see, I had to hold onto hope that your parents’ righteousness lives on in you, and that you are willing to feed its flames,”

It took Luke a second or two to realise what the old man was implying. He gasped, then narrowed his eyes, and channeled all of his autocratic venom into his response.

“You’re asking me to betray my father,” he said.

The old man sighed again and stood up from his chair to look down on Luke. 

“You know, deep down, that what your father is doing is wrong,” he said. “I’m asking you whether you have the moral conviction to do something about it.”

It was true. Luke had had many arguments with his father about the state of the Empire, and more than once he’d laid in bed, unable to sleep and scheming through angry tears all the things he’d reform once he had his chance to take control. He knew the galaxy was a sick and twisted place under the current Emperor’s rule, and he knew that he would do everything in his power to change it.

He would sooner die than admit this to a stranger though.

The itch in Luke’s mind spiked suddenly, forcing him to hide a wince: his father had arrived. Almost on cue, the light started to flash red and the old man took a deep breath, steeling himself.

“I will leave the door unlocked,” he said, gathering himself, and the cloak fell open slightly to reveal the hilt of a lightsaber. “Please, consider my words, and give your father my regards,”

He stood and turned to leave out of the door. Luke watched him go with a growing feeling of helplessness.

“Wait!” he cried out. “Who are you?”

The man paused in the doorway. He turned his head, and for a moment, Luke swore he could see a tear glistening on his cheek.

“Call me Ben,” the old man said.


	3. Chapter 3: Held at gunpoint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems Leia has been a traitor all along, and she has some earth-shattering news to share with her former friend.

“Leia,” he pleaded. “You don’t have to do this,”

“Don’t have to?” she laughed, the reflection of her lightsaber shaking in her amber eyes. “I don’t have to? What makes I’m doing this because I ‘have to’?”

“This isn’t you!” Luke cried. 

He could see his lightsaber, on the floor over her shoulder. Its tip sparked alarmingly, but if he could just reach out and call it towards him, he could maybe kick himself away from her and fight his way out. 

“Please,” she grinned. “I feel more like myself than I ever have,”

Leia had him backed against the wall. His arm was dead and useless; a particularly vicious attack hand left it cleaved in half, his lightsaber along with it, but he was high on adrenaline and fear, and if he didn’t look at the mutilated digits, he could almost pretend it was all fine.

“What happened?” he said, trying for a different angle. “Why are you doing this then?”

“Call it… a familial debt…” she said. “Now, you are going to tell me where the rebellion ran and cowered to, or you’ll deeply regret it,”

“You think I’d tell you so easily?” Luke spat. “They were forced into hiding for a reason! You betrayed them”

“I am no traitor!” Leia roared, jabbing her lightsaber closer. 

Luke winced and pressed himself flat against the wall as he felt its heat graze the skin of his throat.

“I don’t know how you’d define working as a double agent then,” he said regardless. “People died, because of you Leia! Wedge is dead, because of you!”

“It was necessary,” she snarled back.

“Necessary for what?! Galactic domination? Fascist dictatorships run on slavery and blood money? You’re doing the bidding of everything you once claimed to hate!”

“You flatter me,” Leia laughed bitterly. “This is nothing quite so universal: this particular mission is far more personal,”

He glared at her, saying nothing.

“I never told you my connection to the Empire, did I?” Leia asked.

“Obviously not,”

“You see, when I was born, an old enemy stole me away from my parents, and I was raised with liars and traitors. Luckily, my real father found me when I was young, and he taught me the ways of the force, and my true place in the universe. I stayed with the traitors though, and made a name for myself, speaking out against his Majesty.”

“Bail and Brenda loved you Leia,” Luke hissed. “How dare you repay them like this?!”

“Quiet!” she growled, and this time, the lightsaber did actually graze his throat, and Luke winced at the searing pain. “Originally, I was going to kill you and those three squadrons in a tragic explosion, but my father discovered something rather interesting about one of the pilots, and he would rather I risked my cover to extract him,”

“What, another dirty traitor?” Luke spat. The adrenaline was beginning to fade away and he breathed deeply, trying to suppress the agony starting to burn through the remains of his arm. 

“No,” her eyes sparked with something golden and malevolent, and Luke felt a chill rush down his spine. “A brother. It seems I wasn’t the only child stolen from my mother’s womb and raised on lies,”

“Then go find your rotten snake of a brother,” Luke said. “I don’t un-”

The realisation hit him like an asteroid. His whole body tensed and he stared at Leia with wide eyes.

“No,” he whispered, shaking his head slowly. “No, that’s impossible,”

“Search your feelings. You know it to be true.”

“Who…” He could barely finish his choked up question, but Leia knew exactly what he was trying to say.

“Darth Vader is our father,” she said softly. “Formerly Anakin Skywalker, he remained loyal to the republic when the Jedi tried to take over, and took on a new identity to cast away their legacy.

Luke’s heart thundered in his chest and he felt woozy, almost like he was in a particularly twisted dream. He’d only ever heard horror stories about Darth Vader; he only knew him as a figure from the rebellion’s nightmares. No one had ever gone against him and survived. Be they pilots in a dogfight, or an entire army, any who dared cross him were wiped out without mercy or hesitation.

“You-“ Luke whispered. His breath caught in his throat. “You can’t… no-”

“It is the truth, Luke,” Leia said. “I saw it, and soon you shall see it too.”

Luke’s eyes darted to her, and she smiled warmly. He’d seen that exact expression hundreds of times before, but somehow, it felt cold and alien in her golden eyes. She reached out and grasped his hand, squeezing it tight.

“All they’ve ever done is lie to you,” she whispered. “We’re your true family. We’ll protect you,”

Luke’s heart thundered in his chest. His gaze flicked between the cold void of his traitorous sister’s eyes, and the door behind her. One path lead to love and acceptance, and the other lead to darkness and isolation but right now, he couldn’t tell which was which.

“Luke?”

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and made his choice. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, technically this is held at lightsaber-point, rather than gun point, but who’s counting...
> 
> [edit] if you like dark leia, check Hasheky‘s comment on this chapter! they‘ve given a recommendation of some more fics :)


	4. Day 7: Enemy to Caretaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following a brush with death from a Wampa, Luke is freezing to death in the cold deserts of Hoth. There is no one there to save him: the Rebellion was forced to evacuate in a hurry after an Imperial attack and Luke has accepted his fate, until an old enemy appears to save him.

It was cold. Too cold. 

Luke shivered violently and tried to bury himself deeper in his parka. His teeth chattered in his skull, the sound driving into his brain like ice picks. Trying to get what little warmth he could, he huddled into the side of a snow bank, protecting himself from the vicious onslaught of wind and ice that clawed at his face. 

One of his gloves had been torn open, and his hand was already burning with the cold, but it didn’t even matter. He was going to die out here. He'd lost hope that the Alliance would find him, and he didn‘t hold it against them. Before the wampa had attacked him, an urgent comm from Leia signalled the arrival of the empire, and the need to get out of there now. They couldn’t jeopardise their entire movement for the safety of one lone pilot who‘s got stuck out in the cold.

_ “Luke,” _

The tips of Luke’s fingers were starting to go numb. Clumsily, he dug his hands underneath his arms and curled up even tighter.

_ “Luke,” _

The voice of his hallucination was familiar. 

_ “You must get up and leave this place, Luke,”  _ the voice urged. Luke groaned.  _ “Great danger approaches,” _

“I can’t,” he mumbled through stiff lips. “It’s….. it’s too…”

_ “The future of the galaxy depends on it,” _

That was quite a lot depending on him. Luke groaned once more, suddenly feeling like he was 15 again and Aunt Beru was trying to make him wake up in time for school. His heart landed slightly at the thought of her and he quickly shoved it aside.

_ “Luke,” _

The relentless wind and snow was starting to take a familiar shape. Luke tried to control his shivering enough to squint at the humanoid figure becoming sharper every second, and he gasped as he recognised Old Ben Kenobi. That was a mistake. The gesture caused the sides of his chapped lips to crack open and pain lanced through his face.

The hallucination looked terrified, and Luke couldn’t help but smile lazily to himself at the state of his own mind, for coming up with something as bizarre as this. He was beginning to lose his grip on reality.

“ _ You must flee before he finds you, and make your way to Dagobah,”  _ Old Ben told him solemnly.  _ “There, you will find Master Yoda, and he will train you,” _

“Dagobah,” Luke murmured sleepily.

It was so cold, and he was so tired. He leant back against the snowbank and hugged himself tighter. He already had lost all the feeling in his hand, and could feel the numbness creeping up his arm.

_ “Luke no, you must stay awake!”  _ Ben urged.  _ You must wake up and get to Dagobah!” _

“Five…. five more minutes,”

Old Ben’s form was starting to fade; Luke couldn’t tell whether it was the worsening storm, his brain beginning to shut down or his eyes slowly drifting closed, and, to be honest, he didn’t particularly care. As the last of Old Ben’s translucent figure was whisked away by the howling winds, Luke closed his eyes and everything faded into darkness.

_ Hands. _

_ Arms. _

_ Something big and warm surrounded him. _

Luke groaned as he found himself floating back to reality. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to fling up an arm to rub at his burning nose, but he found the limb strangely unresponsive. A steady rhythmic sound filled his ears. Luke strained, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint the source. It was vaguely familiar to him.

“Mother?” he asked, and the sound hitched.

“Not quite, little one,” a deep voice replied, and the rumbling bass tones echoed in his chest like an old Tatoo lullaby.

Luke felt safe. Warm. Like he’d just come home after a long trip away, and the homesickness was starting to fade.

He turned, and tried to rest his head against whatever was causing the noise next to him, but his skull hit hard plastic and metal. He frowned and tried to reposition himself, achieving nothing, when a hand came up next to him, and he found himself shifted to the side. This time, his head hit something...less hard, but it was comfortable.

The hand rested on his forehead and brushed a few stray hairs out of his eyes, and Luke smiled slightly. They’d been irritating his eyelids, but he hadn’t had the energy to move them.

“Wake up little one,” the voice said, “Stay alive.”

“Dagobah,” Luke replied.

“What?”

“Have to go… Dagobah,” Luke said. “For the galaxy. Train,”

Something shifted in the air, and he frowned. The warm homeliness had vanished like a shot, and something cold and bitter had swept in to take its place. It turned the blood in Luke’s veins to ice.

Almost as if it had noticed his discomfort, the darkness around him faded away, just as suddenly as it had appeared. The hand carried on rubbing soothing circles through his hair.

“Do not fret,” the voice said. “All will be made right soon,”

The air crackled with those words and Luke opened his eyes. 

The world took its time to come back to him. The first thing he noticed was the black fabric wrapped around him, and the ground below him. Someone’s arms held him tight to their chest, and he could see their black boots striding over snow, leaving heavy imprints. 

Then, Luke twisted his head to look up at whoever had saved him from death on the snowbank, wrapped him in a cape and carried him to safely. It was probably for the best that he was somewhat woozy, and his brain immediately accepted that this was some weird new hallucination, brought in by the subconscious as a dying comfort.

How else would you explain Darth Vader saving his life?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, my update schedule is all over the place, but I have exams around the corner and my teachers are going absolutely buck wild with homework. I’ve started the one shot for every day, I just haven’t finished many,,,


	5. Day 8: Where did everybody go?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A powerful flare in the force brings Vader searching at the site of a particularly vicious battle. He was expecting to find an army of Jedi, or a rebel super weapon, not a terrified 8 year old clutching a strangely familiar necklace.

Darth Vader didn't even blink as he stepped over a mutilated corpse. It had once been a stormtrooper, but now the armour had been pierced open and split across the chest, revealing sprawling red trails of flesh. Half the helmet was caved in and the trooper's visible eye stared blankly up at the sky, desperation carved into his face. 

Bodies, Imperial and Rebel alike, littered the ground in front of him, like discarded playthings, each in a similar state of bloody death. It had been a particularly vicious battle.

Vader himself hadn’t taken part. If he had, the fight would have been less of a violent conflict and more of a massacre; the rebel soldiers’ bodies would be piling up in endless numbers, forming huge walls around the battlefield. 

To any outsider, there was no reason for his venture down to the planet, to stand among the corpses and revel in the cries of Cariex Crows circling up above. Perhaps it would have been considered some strange ritual of Vader’s; after all, he was more than aware of his reputation as a death god, and what better way to relax than to stand in pools of blood and gore?

Vader had no time for gods, or whimsical meanderings. His interest in the battle was purely force based, after all, he was no stranger to such brutal violent scenes. If he stopped to fully take in every gory landscape he’d ever seen, he would be 20 years behind.

Instead, he was here because of a particularly sharp flash in the force. It had struck him like lightning while he mediated, finding its way straight past his armour and piercing into his heart. The cry still echoed in his ears. 

_ NOOOOOO!  _

It didn't seem like there was anything alive within hundreds of kilometers. Vader's foot landed in something soft and, when he lifted it again, half an organ came up with it. He brushed it off with a touch of the force. 

The echo of the flash rang in his ears, and he could feel it getting closer with every step he took. Something so powerful and clearly untrained could be a great asset in the right hands, or a terrible threat in the wrong ones. He would either seize it for his master and his Empire, or he would destroy it.

It was getting stronger. 

Vader’s eyes narrowed behind his mask as he caught sight of a crashed ship, and the ringing noise screamed. He strode faster, with huge purposeful steps until he got to the ship.

With a powerful tug of the force, the mangled wing bent out of shape, upwards to reveal… a child.

The source of the intense force presence was a human boy. He couldn’t have been more than eight or nine, no older than a Padawan. This was what Vader had travelled across the galaxy for?

He stared down at him. The lenses of his mask washed everything in a red hue, but the boy clearly had shaggy blond hair and bright eyes. He’d been shivering in fear, and dried tears tracked down through the caked dirt on his face. One hand was clutched around something small and white that Vader couldn’t quite make out.

“Who are you?” the boy shivered.

“What are you doing on a battlefield?” Vader replied.

The child’s emotions were spiking through the force with frightening intensity. Even untrained, he was powerful. Vader knew that he should take the child back to Coruscant and deliver him to his master, but the rational side of his brain warned him that the boy would only be competition: a tool for Sidious to pit against him. He should kill it now.

“They told me to wait for them, but they never came back,” the boy said tearfully, glancing around the battlefield. “Where did everybody go?”

It wasn’t like Vader had never killed children before. Even a war-orphan like this one, abandoned on a battleground sparked, would be easy for him to kill. It wouldn’t fight back, and Vader knew that killing it would be far more merciful than delivering it to Sidious and it being tortured and twisted by the dark side for the rest of its life. It was kinder to both of them if he mowed it down now.

So why was he hesitating? Why was the force screaming at him to stop?

Vader growled and shook away his doubts. He stepped forwards and ignited his lightsaber with a hiss; the child’s eyes widened and he shrank back against the wall behind him, raising his hands to cover his face. The small white object slipped from his palm, and caught Vader’s eye as it fell to the floor.

He froze.

It couldn’t be.

This was impossible.

The world around him melted away and he dropped his lightsaber and crouched down. His hand reached towards the object on the floor and he picked it up with careful reverence.

There, nestled in the palm of his back gloves, was the japor snippet he’d given to Pa- given to her all those years ago.

A golden tendril of the force crept into Vader’s isolated bubble, wrapping around his hand with a curious air. Vader blinked, feeling his heart thunder in his chest, and remembered the small force sensitive boy next to him.

“Where did you get this?”

It was meant to be a harsh demand, the type Vader used on rebel prisoners that brought grown men to tears, but instead it forced its way out of his mechanical lungs as a pained whisper.

“It was my mother’s,” the boy said, and Vader noticed he didn’t sound so afraid anymore.

“Who was your mother, child?”

“Her name was Padmé,”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t decide whether or not I like this ending...


	6. Day 23: What’s a guy gotta do to get some sleep around here?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Han has been frozen and kidnapped, and Leia has been working tirelessly to find him

Leia blinked heavily, her hands shuffling through the piles of paper in front of her almost on autopilot. Her eyes skimmed the words, taking in nothing. They didn’t have to. She’d reread the rules about transport through Hutt space on repeat more times than anyone would ever be able to count.

She’d even had Luke translate the more obscure bylaws for her to obsess over, an hour ago? Two hours? It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered anymore was finding the Slave I and its destination, and how she could follow it there.

“Elle-four, can you-” she asked, turning around.

Her words died on her lips as she saw her assistance droid switched off and plugged into the port on the wall. She frowned. L4 wasn’t scheduled for a recharge for at least another half day. Her chair grated along the floor and Leia winced as the sound drilled nails into her skull. Since when had she had a headache?

She shook her head to get rid of it and stood up, ignoring the shooting pains that rocked through her temples and the pins and needles that numbed her feet. 

“Elle-four, what’s going on?” she mumbled as she crouched down next to the droid. “I need those unregistered hyper lane coordinates agin,”

L4 let out a sad beep as Leia flicked his power on. The display on the port beside him lit up slowly, neon blue and far too bright for Leia’s sensitive eyes.

“Turn it down, turn it down,” she hissed, holding up an arm to shield herself.

L4 complied and the screen brightness lowered down to a bearable level. Frowning, Leia tapped the battery display: why was it only on 6%? L4 had been at least halfway charged the last time he’d been activated and he’d plugged himself in prematurely.

“Never mind,” she groaned, pulling herself up again. “I- It- I have around here somewhere…”

On her way back to her desk, her feet somehow stopped functioning and she toppled forwards with a yell. Flailing outstretched hands caught the eye of the table and sipped, sending piles of paper flying. They caught the upthrust of the fan at the side of the room and flew up, scattering along the ceiling.

A lump rose in Leia’s throat. She stared up at the papers raining down over her as they swept in huge arcs around the room and she felt hot tears rise.

They streamed down her cheeks and she gave up, hugging her knees to her chest and burying her face in the gaps between them. She failed. She would always fail. Han would die alone and frozen in carbonite, just because she was so totally  _ useless  _ and couldn’t even fetch a piece of paper with illegal hyperlanes on it without completely and totally fucking everything up.

“Leia?”

A shaft of light cut through the the darkness of the room and Leia lifted her head up. Her eyes hurt and her forehead throbbed incessantly as she squinted up at the silhouette of whoever had just opened the door.

“Leia are you okay?” they asked, and as they did, Leia could begin to make out their features.

“Luke,” she croaked. Why was her voice hoarse? “Too bright,”

Luke shut the door behind him. Either it was the force, or her brain had started skipping time.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, dropping down to the floor beside her.

He put his arm over her shoulders and she melted into it almost desperately. There was definitely snot and tears on his jacket now but he didn't even flinch, just absent mindedly traced a pattern on the side of her other arm. 

“When was the last time you slept?” he said.

She tried to shrug. It’s not like it mattered.

“Leia,” Luke insisted, and she groaned into the crook of his arm. 

“Last night,” she said. “In the falcon, merem?- rememer?- you know,”

“The falcon?” he repeated. “When you couldn’t sleep so you went to go find H-”

She flinched.

“So you went to go try the bed in the falcon?” he corrected.

Leia nodded.

“Leia,” he said in a sympathetic tone. “That was two days ago. You need to rest,”

“Can’t!” she protested. “We need to find him, and I can’t stop, I-”

She felt Luke shift and raised her head blearily to see him holding out and arm, and all the loose papers scattered everywhere raised and began to come together. They formed neat piles and floated down onto the desk. Leia groaned. Stupid force shit.

Still. That meant she could get back to it. She moved to stand up, but Luke’s arms caught her tight.

“No!” she squeaked, and pulled against his arm. “Fuck, when did you get strong?”

“Dagobah,” he grinned. “But you are going to your quarters and you’re not coming back to this for at least eight hours,”

“No! No, I have to-!”

“Leia, I promise you, while you are asleep, I will work twice as hard to find him,” Luke reassured. “And then once you are well rested, we will work together and you, at your 100% will find him, I promise you,” He stood up, gently pulling her along with him, and held her by the shoulders, staring straight in her eyes. He was close, but his face was blurry, and she sighed in defeat.

“Fine,”

Now that Luke had mentioned it, she could feel the waves of exhaustion come crashing down over her. Her eyelids were so unbelievably heavy.

“But the second I wake up, we-”

She was asleep before she could even finish her sentence. Luke rolled his eyes fondly as she waved on her feet and he caught her in his arms, carrying her out the door. He paused in the corridor, looking between the hall to Leia’s quarters and the hall to the flight deck, and smiled softly before turning and making his way to the hangar, where the Falcon was parked. She’d sleep better in there anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> before you come at me for my “day 1... day 2... day 4.... DAY 23” update schedule, yes i know, i’m mad at it too.
> 
> i’ve started pretty much every single prompt, i know what i’m doing with them but damn, ending them is so hard! As i figure out how to finish them, i’ll upload them, don’t be surprised if it goes into november, and i’ll reorder the chapters once they’re all done
> 
> i honestly should’ve expected this -_-
> 
> but thank you so much for reading!! it may not seem like it, but i really love writing these, and the positive feedback honestly makes me so happy :)


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